Christmas Spirit
by Lingren
Summary: Jack steps in to stop some bullies from harassing a child on Christmas morning and makes some new friends, as well as a few enemies too. A reworking of an older story, not posted on here before.
1. Chapter 1

_Well folks, as it's getting near Christmas, and I didn't have a new Christmas story ready for this year, I thought I would resurrect an old one for you which hadn't been posted on here before. So, having picked one out, I've been giving it a good going over and correcting my mistakes (I may have missed some) as well as reworking it to a certain extent too. I have to apologise too, because unfortunately it wasn't a shippy fic when I originally wrote it, so this is keeping within the confines of a canon fic, sorry!_

_Thank you for all your reviews of the last story I posted, I always appreciate them, and I am getting near the stage to begin posting that 100__th__ fic under my other pen-name, LetitiaRichards. _

_Hope you all enjoy this Christmas story._

**Christmas Spirit.**

By Lingren.

Category: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Smarm.

Season: 8.

Spoilers: New Order.

Warnings: Sap. Because it's that time of year!

Summary: Jack steps in to put a stop to some bullies and gains some new friends as well as some enemies.

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate SG-1. No copyright infringements intended. Just borrowing the characters for a little fun, fantasy and imagination.

Chapter 1 – T'was the Night Before Christmas

Christmas was never going to be the same forever after. Sg-1 was never going to be the same team either, particularly after Jack O'Neill's promotion to Brigadier General. Moving up a step on that ladder had put paid to all that, and as a result, Jack just wouldn't be the same either; not being part of the finest team of Stargate Command any more.

From now on, he was 'The Man'. And, as the new Commander of the SGC, the newly minted General O'Neill was the one onto whose shoulders the responsibility of the entire world rested, excluding Presidents, the Joint Chiefs, and the now Lieutenant General George Hammond of course. Except, they were still higher up the chain of command than Jack was. Though ultimately, it was as Brigadier General, that Jack would now make the decisions on a daily basis; the one who sent the cream of the US Forces to meet the most powerful enemy that man had ever known.

Add to the fact that apart from Jack's new position, all three members of SG-1 would not be celebrating the festive season with anyone in particular this year, let alone their ex-CO. The SGC's premier team was currently off-world, consulting with an alien nation in the hope of becoming allies against the Goa'uld.

The end result of this state of affairs, was that Jack O'Neill would be spending the Christmas holiday completely alone; something he was, for the most part, loath to do.

If his old team were actually here on Earth, then it would have been a foregone conclusion that despite his new exalted rank, he would still be a part of their 'family'; he'd be with his 'kids', as he'd often referred to them as such. After almost eight years it was only to be expected. For the last seven years they had been a force to be reckoned with. Proven time after time, that they deserved their reputation as the best team ever to set foot on an alien world.

It was Christmas Eve already and Jack stood in the briefing room, a solitary figure staring out of the window at the huge alien ring below; the Stargate. The gateway to other worlds; the doorway through which he watched his teams step into on a daily basis. At this moment the gate was idle, but he knew that state of affairs could change at any given moment. He never knew from one minute to the next what might to come through the artificial wormhole created by the Stargate, be it friend or foe. Celebration or annihilation; it could fall either way.

SG-1 wasn't the only team out there at this point in time. In all he had sent out three teams on missions, knowing full well that they would be missing the most precious time of the year for any family; Christmas. A holiday made for families, and he'd been the one to ruin it for at least 8 of the men and women under his command. There were going to be several disappointed children out there this year, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Jack sighed and glanced down at his watch. Time to go home. At least he could do that now. Not that there was anyone waiting for him there. He had no family; not now, at least no-one actually related to him. At one time there had been Charlie and Sara to go home to; but that was all in the past. He had nothing now, he'd squandered his chances, and it was far too late to change that state of affairs. By now he'd come to realise that he was evidently meant to be on his own. He'd lost the one opportunity left open for him earlier, that being a closer relationship with Sam Carter. Much to his consternation, she had Pete now, and any hope he had harboured about the two of them being together had flown right out of the window when that cop had appeared.

Listlessly, he grabbed his jacket from the leather chair where he'd dropped it earlier, and made his way to the Control room one last time to be sure everything was okay before he took his leave. The skeleton crew, he knew, would keep things running during his absence; so here was yet more staff who would be missing from the festivities they should be enjoying at home with their families. Such was the way of life for those who chose to serve their Country. Nothing new there, Jack reluctantly acknowledged.

"I'm off now Walter. Be sure to keep the chain on the door; don't want any unwelcome visitors while I'm away, and keep the light on for our own folks. You know where to reach me for anything. And I mean **anything**!" Jack quipped, trying to appear jovial for their sakes, though he was sure his little speech fell flat. His heart wasn't really in any little by-play tonight; his heart and soul was light years away somewhere across the galaxy with his 'kids'.

"Yes Sir, we will. Merry Christmas General," Harriman urged.

"Thanks," Jack answered automatically. The simple reply came without conscious thought. It was something he'd grown used to over the years. Everyone said it. It was the right thing to say. Even if it didn't mean anything to him anymore. "Yeah, you too."

"Yes Sir!" Walter responded. Even being on duty, they could still celebrate. The whole atmosphere in the SGC was different over the holidays; more relaxed for a start, though not enough to be taken by surprise by an enemy. And Harriman didn't mind being on duty tonight, really.

Jack slung his jacket over his shoulder and made for the elevator; his spirit at rock bottom, and for the first time in many years, he felt truly alone.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Last night Jack had drowned his misery in a few bottles of his favourite beer and a chaser of JackDaniels whiskey, which was the only Christmas spirit he was likely to find anywhere in his house this year. Christmas morning or not, he was paying the price for his misery the night before. His head felt fuzzy and he was more than just a little hung over, though he couldn't for the life of him recall drinking quite so much as the empty bottles were telling him. He hadn't meant to, honestly. It was just as well he hadn't received a call for help from the SGC last night, and was really hoping they wouldn't call him in today. There was no way he was in a fit state to take command if anything unexpected turned up. He couldn't even command his own hand to stop shaking right now.

With a sour taste in his mouth and a tongue which felt like it was wearing a mouldy fur coat, he collected the scattered empty bottles and dumped them into the recycling bin; quite disgusted with himself for the amount he'd found lying about. He swore there and then that he'd never drink so much again, and decided on taking a run to blow away the cobwebs shrouding his brain right now. Besides which, he could definitely do with some fresh air to get him feeling better, and once he got home he would have to open a few windows because the place actually smelt like a brewery.

With fresh air in mind, he got dressed in warm sweats and trainers, locked the door behind him and took off on a gentle jog to the park and back.

It was cold outside; bitterly cold, if he would only acknowledge it to himself. Deep snow hung about the streets, crisp, fresh and as yet mostly untouched by human feet at this hour of the day, especially as it was Christmas Day. The sun had barely peaked over the horizon as yet and its pink tinged rays lit the glittering snow with an eerie light. In silence he jogged along the streets, trying not to think too much about the past, and not at all about the bleak prospects of his future.

The deserted roads would soon give way to excitement later on; when the residential streets would be full of kids playing with their new toys while the dinner was prepared. He recalled his own childhood and remembered the days when practically every kid on his block received either a new bike, skis or skates and couldn't wait to try them out. Maybe today's kids were different, who knew. But even Charlie had to test out the bike when impatience got the better of him. Jack smiled at the memory; Charlie was out of the door before breakfast, and if Sara hadn't called him back indoors at that time, he'd have been out there in his pyjamas.

Jack took a leisurely jog around the park, feeling better as the minutes passed. He'd nodded a greeting to several people who'd passed him by as they walked their dogs, but other than that he met very few people which was more than okay with him.

The pathway wound round the bushes, meandering along amidst the dormant flowering ornamental shrubs on its way to join up with the street again. Jack slowed to nothing more than a quick walk, eager to get back home in the warm, but also needing to catch his breath for a moment or two. Getting old certainly had its disadvantages, and sitting behind a desk wasn't helping him either. His knees were already beginning to feel the effects of pounding the streets, but he didn't think Santa gave out new ones otherwise he'd have asked for a pair long before now.

Bending over slightly to rest his hands on his thighs while he gained his second wind, Jack could hear raised voices coming from around the next bend in the path and Jack couldn't help but listen in when one plaintive wail came from what sounded like a young child.

Jack could hear most of what was being said, and soon understood what was going on. From his position it sounded like a gang of bullies, probably teenagers, wanted to take the youngster's bike away from him. Anger and indignation rose up inside him and he cautiously edged around the corner, hoping to stop any altercation should it arise.

There was a young kid, a boy who was probably no older than eight or nine, desperately clinging onto what looked to be a brand new bike; and was obviously a Christmas present. Hanging onto the youngster and the bike, there was a gang of four scruffy youths who looked as if they could use a shower for a start. One of whom was trying to pull the kid's hands from his prized possession. None of them had noticed Jack's approach, which was exactly the way Jack wanted it to be.

"Sooo, what's goin' on here?" he asked, making his presence known with what Sam would refer to as his commander's voice. The same tone that had stopped grown men in mid flight, trembling with dread. Jack came to a stop, standing tall and pierced the youths with dark eyes that threatened any attempts to brush him aside.

"What's it to you old man?" one of the teenager's sneered, causing the others to snigger.

Jack addressed the young owner of the bike who had stopped crying in surprise, pulling the said bike away from the now lax hands of the older lad to stand to the side and slightly behind Jack.

"You know these guys?" Jack asked the young boy kindly, without taking his eyes from the gang.

The child shook his head, unable or unwilling to voice his fears, but managing a quick, "No sir."

"Okay," Jack sighed, keeping the bully pinned by his stern gaze, "I really don't think he wants to part with his bike, especially to bullies like you, so how about you just leave the kid alone, huh? Try picking on someone your own size for a change, or would that be too dangerous for you and your friends?"

"Who says I have to leave him alone?" the youth retorted, choosing to ignore the slight on his character.

"I say so," Jack replied calmly.

There was a ripple of laughter as the youths thought it was a good joke.

"Yeah? You and who's army Grandpa?"

"Air Force actually," Jack corrected him nonchalantly.

The look on the loud mouthed youth's face faltered for a moment before he regained his bravado. He didn't want to look like a coward in front of his mates. He stepped up to Jack, almost toe to toe, yet still only managed to reach Jack's shoulders, his eyes hardening as he stared into Jack's eyes.

Pulling himself up to his full height, Jack glared down at the youngster.

"I don't see anyone except you, old man. You wanna try somethin'?" the teenager threatened.

The lad made a quick move to punch his victim, but Jack parried the blow before it could reach its target. His grip on the boy's wrist was firm as he twisted the limb behind the lad's back, pulling it upwards with a quick jerk.

"I may be older, but I can handle anything you or your mates throw at me kid!" he growled.

The youth let out a howl of pain and tried to ease his discomfort by standing on his toes and leaning over.

Jack effortlessly pushed him towards the others while keeping an eye out for more trouble from the youths.

"What say you leave the kid alone in future?" Jack advised, hoping that they would make a tactical retreat. If not then he would have his hands full that was for sure. Four against one could be a problem.

TBC


	2. Meeting Friends, and Foes

_Thanks for all your reviews, glad you're liking it so far._

Christmas Spirit.

By Lingren.

_Previously:-_

"What say you leave the kid alone in future?" Jack advised, hoping that they would make a tactical retreat. If not then he would have his hands full that was for sure. Four against one could be a problem.

Chapter 2 – Meeting Friends, and Foes

Jack watched closely while appearing unconcerned, and as such was aware when one of the other lads charged at him. With his head down, he was aiming to catch Jack off guard, but the General was too good for him and by stepping aside at the last minute, the youth flew past without hitting his target. Jack on the other hand, stuck his foot out and swiped the kid's legs out from under him, making the youth crash heavily onto the frozen ground. The youngster let out a moan of pain and quickly rolled away from Jack before scampering back to his mates limping slightly. The others now hesitated from further attack, looking to their leader to make the next move.

"I did warn you," Jack said, gearing up for another attack. "I was Air Force. Special Ops trained. So if you wanna take me on, then come right on." Jack beckoned for them, just eager for them to try their luck. "Well? Anyone wanna try it? And believe me, I know who'll be going home worse for wear if you take me on."

The leader of the gang hesitated for a few moments, before trying his hand. He took a few steps towards Jack and looked for an opening. His stance similar to that of a boxer, while Jack just stood there watching him. Getting bored real fast with this idiot's dithering, Jack made the initial move. Never having seen it coming, the lad was unceremoniously tossed over Jack's shoulder to land with a painful grunt on the hard surface of the path. He lay there for several minutes before glaring up at Jack who wasn't even winded from the effort.

Deciding that perhaps discretion was the better part of valour, the other lads helped their leader to his feet and made a tactical withdrawal while they could. They backed off, metaphorically licking their wounds and swearing, and showing their anger by shouting abusive language back over their shoulders at Jack and the child; all of which bounced off Jack with no effect whatsoever. The little boy cringed behind Jack though, so he placed his hand onto the kid's shoulder, reassuring him that he wouldn't let them hurt him.

He'd worked with real soldiers for many years now, so the pathetic words issuing from the mouths of these teenagers was nothing compared to the strong language used by the majority of troops, and himself on occasions, especially when things were hotting up out in the field. Ignoring the insults cast his way was something he was well versed in so it was rather like water off a duck's back.

Jack watched them go before he turned his attention back to the young boy now.

"You okay?"

The kid nodded, though he was still trembling; tear drops remained clinging to his impossibly long eyelashes.

"Th...thanks M...mister," he answered, his voice quivering with emotional turmoil.

Jack shrugged the thanks away as was his habit. He would have done that for anyone, but kids always were his one weakness, and he couldn't stand by and allow one so young to be bullied by youths who had nothing better to do with their lives.

"Sooo..." Jack sighed, "What ya doin' out here so early?"

The large blue eyes, now awash with moisture, blinked and dropped away from Jack's steady gaze, feeling guilty for his actions that led up to this.

Jack bit his lip in frustration. Whatever the boy was up to was obviously not up for discussion.

"This new?" he asked, changing the subject.

There was a nod and a shy smile from the child confirmed his thoughts.

"Cool!" Jack said with approval.

The boy grinned shyly.

"It's a great bike! I'm Jack by the way, and you are?"

"Max," the boy replied shyly.

"Hi there Max. Maybe I'd better walk you home, just to be sure those guys aren't hangin' around and waiting until I'm gone. Don't ya think?"

Max nodded, unwilling to face the bullies again and possibly lose his precious bike. His Mom would kill him for sure if he'd managed to get it stolen within 10 minutes of having it. His Mom was gonna kill him anyway for being outside before she and his step-father were up.

They walked in near silence, and the only thing that Jack managed to get out of the boy was his address.

They walked a couple of blocks before Max hesitated.

"What's up?" Jack asked, wondering why the boy seemed so reluctant to go home.

Max looked up into Jack's dark eyes and obviously saw something that reassured him enough to confide in him.

"Jack...can...can I trust you?"

"Sure!" Jack said, squatting down beside him and placing his hand on the boy's shoulder, and tried hard to ignore the accompanying creak from his knees.

"Mom was still asleep when I found my new bike by the Christmas tree. I sneaked out of the house with it before she was up."

Jack sighed with relief. Maybe things weren't so bad as he'd imagined.

"Ya know, that wasn't such a smart thing to do, Max?" Jack stated firmly, but not harshly. "Suppose I hadn't come along when I did? What do you think would have happened? And what if they'd really hurt you?"

The tears fell faster as Max finally pondered his mistakes.

Max shook his head solemnly, and sniffed. Jack lifter his hand to wipe away the tears before moving it to hold Max' head.

"I bet your Mom's real upset that you've just left the house without tellin' her where you were going."

Max nodded, flushing with more guilt.

"I think maybe ya oughtta tell her that you're sorry. Knowing what Mom's are like, she's probably worried sick and maybe she's cryin' too."

Max nodded again, unable to meet with Jack's eyes.

"C'mon kid. Let's go tell her what happened, together. Ya know, I did the same thing when I was a kid," he grinned conspiratorially, which earned him a look of surprise from Max. They both shared a big grin which did make Max feel slightly better.

Jack walked along beside the boy as he wheeled his bike along the sidewalk, chatting more freely, until they finally reached what was obviously his house.

The house was small but well maintained, and the front porch was full of decorations for the holiday. Before he could encourage the boy up the pathway towards the house, the porch door flew open.

"Max!" the woman cried on seeing her son home safe again, her Irish brogue coming to the fore. "Where the hell have you been? Holy mother of god, I've been worried sick!"

Max cringed under the onslaught, but stood his ground.

His mother swept him into a hug and kissed him soundly, making him squirm, knowing that Jack was watching.

Jack waited patiently until she would finally noticed him, not wishing to intrude on her private moment of obvious heart-felt relief.

After she had had her fill of comfort and making sure he was in one piece, she rose to her feet, and frowned down at her son.

"Maximillian Patrick Seamus O'Brien...!" she began angrily.

Jack winced in sympathy. Poor kid, he thought, being saddled with such a name.

"What in the name of God were you thinking of? Taking off like that without so much as a..."

"Uh! 'Scuse me Ma'am?" Jack advanced on the two of them, more than thankful to interrupt the tirade, and he was sure Max was too.

The woman stopped mid sentence, shocked into silence. She had completely overlooked his presence before in her rush to reassure herself that her son was okay.

"Hi, I just wanted to be sure he got home safe. There were some bullies, tryin' to take his new bike from him. I don't think they'd have bothered him again, but I didn't want to chance his luck in meeting up with them again."

"Oh sweet Jesus!" she cried, crossing herself, "Are you okay sweetie?" she asked stooping down to examine her offspring for any injuries she may have missed earlier.

Max suffered the ignominy of her scrutiny without a word, but he did turn towards Jack and roll his eyes.

Jack looked on in amusement. How well he recalled his own Mom fussing over him when he got into scrapes as a youngster, which was more often than he cared to remember.

"I'm fine Mom," Max said at last, breaking free of her ministrations.

"Well it's just as well...em...Mr...em?"

"O'Neill. Jack O'Neill ma'am. Mrs. O'Brien, I presume?"

She flustered for a moment, lost in the depths of the twinkling chocolate brown eyes that Jack fixed on her.

"Oh! It's Mrs Johnson now, actually. Mr. O'Neill...I can't thank you enough..."

"Actually it's General O'Neill USAF, but no matter. It was my pleasure Ma'am." Damn if he didn't find saying 'General' these days, still strange. It wasn't so bad at the base, but off duty even now it felt unreal.

He turned towards Max again, scrubbing a hand through the boy's unruly locks.

"You take care, ya hear?" Jack ordered him as if he were one of his own 'kids'.

By now though, Max's eyes were as big as saucers.

"Yo...you're a real General?" he gasped in surprise.

Jack grinned down at him.

"Yeasureyoubetya!"

"You don't look like one!" he said, cocking his head to one side and squinting up at him, as if Jack should look the part.

Jack couldn't help but laugh at the boy.

"Ya know, lots of people have said exactly the same thing," he replied still grinning before an involuntary shiver ran through him. Now he was standing around he was feeling the cold wind that seemed to be cutting right through him. The last thing he needed was a chill or worse.

"I really can't thank you enough General O'Neill. Please, wont you come in for a few minutes and get warm, you must be frozen dressed like that out here in this weather."

TBC


	3. Fiery Problems

_Wow, where did the time go? Anyway, here's another chapter for you all to enjoy. Thanks as always for all your lovely comments. _

**Christmas Spirit.**

By Lingren.

_Previously:-_

"I really can't thank you enough General O'Neill. Please, won't you come in for a few minutes and get warm, you must be frozen dressed like that out here in this weather."

Chapter 3 – Fiery Problems

Jack shrugged. He was cold; very cold actually, but up to that point it hadn't bothered him too much.

"Thank you," he replied, looking down at his clothes. He hadn't bargained on being sociable when he'd thrown on his comfortable old sweats, but it would give him more of a chance to warm up a bit. He was actually further away from home than he'd intended to be, and would get warm again when he resumed his jogging, but right now he could really do with a potty break – 'another one of those annoying things about getting older and feeling the cold more!' he bemoaned inwardly "I think that would be most welcome. I must confess to feeling pretty cold now I come to think about it. So thanks, don't mind if I do."

"Yous come right on in then, and get y'self warm. I'll make you some real coffee that'll warm the cockles of your heart!"

"Thank you Ma'am, that's mighty kind of you," Jack responded, flashing her one of his brilliant smiles that usually had the women falling over themselves to gain his attention.

"Go on wid ya, I can't let a fellow Irishman go widout thankin' yous properly now!"

Jack acknowledged this with another smile as he waited for Max to take his bike through the door to the back, following in his Mom's footsteps. Jack shut the door behind him after stamping the snow from his running shoes on the porch before he entered. Max then showed Jack into the living room while his Mom called out to him from the kitchen telling him to get comfy in one of the armchairs.

So, now sitting in said comfy armchair, Jack began to slowly thaw out.

"Dis is the least I can do for yous General O'Neill," Mrs. Johnson stated as she entered the room to hand him a steaming mug of coffee.

Jack took it in both hands, wrapping them round to feel the warmth seeping into his fingers. He inhaled the aroma of the strong dark brew, and raised his eyebrows towards Max's Mom.

Mrs. Johnson just grinned back, informing him that it was just a tot o' the Irish Whiskey to warm him on his way home.

Jack raised his cup to her and held the coffee to his nose, inhaling deeply. It smelt real good, and despite the resolutions that he'd made first thing this morning about not eating or drinking much today, he couldn't help enjoying the rich aroma along with all the other delicious smells emanating from the kitchen. Mrs. Johnson had obviously been very busy baking up a storm in between worrying about her son, perhaps to keep her mind occupied.

He glanced down at his watch and gasped in surprise. He hadn't realised just how much time had passed while he'd been out on the road as it were. No wonder he felt hungry, and the wonderful smell of a Christmas dinner cooking was making him wish he was back at home again. Not that, that particular thought was at all welcoming, but at least he had a full freezer these days. He was sure to find something a little more special in there for today.

He downed his coffee in record time, gulping down the rich drink around the pain of a burned tongue; wanting to escape before his stomach rumbled and embarrassed him.

He made an excuse that he had to get home. He didn't lie to her; he never said there was anyone waiting for him, though he may have insinuated the idea as they chatted.

Mrs. Johnson was one step ahead of him though.

"Please, General, won't yous stay for dinner? We'd be honoured, and I know Max would enjoy your company." Jack was trying to waive her off, but she forestalled him by looking him straight in the eye. "Now General, don't tell me that you have someone at home waitin' on yous, 'cos I don't think you do." That came out more of a proclamation, rather than an actual supposition. She seemed to completely understand the reason he was out on his own on Christmas morning. A man of his age would more likely be at home with his wife and children having fun around the Christmas tree and opening presents. It was fairly obvious to her that he had nobody to stay at home for, Christmas or not.

Jack tried hard to form a polite refuse, but what came out instead was a particularly loud rumble from his traitorous stomach. Betrayed by his body, she wouldn't take no for an answer, so he'd suddenly found himself belonging to a family, despite being a relative stranger.

"Ah...and no, you're right, I don't have anyone at home," he confessed, "I'd like to take up your offer Mrs. Johnson, really, but you don't know me from Adam Ma'am, it wouldn't be right."

"Nonsense General O'Neill..."

"Jack!" he insisted, seeing as how he wasn't going to get out of having lunch with them any time soon.

"Now that is what wouldn't be right, not at all, an' you not wantin' t' stay fer a grand meal," she replied just as quickly, bringing a grin to his lips.

"Touché Ma'am!"

"Good! And it's Chrissie, Jack," she insisted.

"Pleased to meet you, Chrissie."

"You too, and I can't thank yous enough Jack, for coming to my Max's rescue. I'm real glad you were there for d' boy. If his father had been here, then he would have done the same."

"Think nothing of it, Chrissie. My pleasure. Ya know, I'm not really dressed for such a grand occasion, and if you insist that I share your meal, then you have to excuse me for a few minutes to let me go home and change; and then I promise I'll drive back in time for dinner."

"You will come back, won't you?" she queried, giving him a hard look.

"Sure, I will. If you think you really want a crusty old General at your table."

Chrissie laughed.

"I think Max would really enjoy your company this afternoon, and I'm sure my Patrick would too."

"Patrick?" Jack asked, unsure if it was another son he'd not seen as yet.

"My husband. Max's step-father."

"Look, maybe this isn't such a..."

"Oh no you don't! You's not backing out of this now, Jack O'Neill. I've never yet known an O'Neill to pass up a good meal when it's offered." She countered in a voice that didn't bode well, should he back out of the arrangement. "And besides, Max will be so disappointed if you don't come."

"Please!" begged Max, adding more weight to the argument.

Jack's resolve to stay away and not get involved any further, wavered under the pleading gaze of the boy. Jack found himself undecided for probably the first time in his life.

"Dad's at work. He's a Policeman but he'll be home in time for dinner too. You won't be the only man here, Jack."

Jack still hesitated, unwilling to intrude on their family time together.

"Good! That's settled then," Chrissie announced without letting Jack decide anything. "We'll expect you back here at One o'clock sharp."

Jack shook his head at her tactics, though he couldn't help but grin too.

"We could sure use you at the mountain, Chrissie. I don't think there would be many who would disobey your orders like they do mine; even Daniel wouldn't dare."

She cast him an enquiring glance and he smiled, filling her in as much as he could without saying much of what they did there.

"One of my staff members," he clarified with an indulgent smile, thinking about the trouble magnet that was Daniel. "He has this tendency to wander off on occasions and get himself lost or into trouble."

"And I bet you're right there to sort him out again," Chrissie laughed. She could well imagine the General going in after his men. She'd already seen that side of him to see beyond the gruff exterior, for all his blustering, he was obviously a softie at heart and thought much about the people under his command.

"Not always, unfortunately," he sighed. He couldn't be there for Daniel now, nor for Carter or Teal'c. He was no longer part of SG-1, and damn, if that didn't hurt a little bit. "I have other duties now," he explained sadly.

"Oh!" she sympathised when she could see the disappointment so clearly on his face.

Jack brought himself back to the present and made his excuses, looking at his watch.

"Well, if I'm gonna make it back here in time for dinner, then I'd better get going. Are you sure you really want me to join you?"

"Absolutely. Besides, it will give Patrick someone to talk to, 'sides me. I'm sure you two will be gettin' on jus' fine."

Jack shook his head in disbelief. There he was, expecting to be all alone on the big day, but now...here he was, invited to join in with these kind folks. He took his leave and strolled down the street for a few moments, turning things over in his head. Eventually he broke into a jog when the wind whipped straight through his sweats, reminding him that he was cold and to hurry home, shower, shave and change before getting back to his newly acquired family.

He kept his mind on his own business as he jogged at a steady pace along the streets. He could see from the corner of his eye, that several kids had now come out and were happily trying out their latest possessions. There weren't as many youngsters as he'd expected, but, maybe things were somewhat different these days. With a sigh of nostalgia, he guessed that most of today's kids would receive computer games for Christmas and would be stuck indoors, glued to their game consoles. He sighed heavily at what they called progress, as he continued running at a gentle pace now he was feeling warmer again. The one thing he did regret was that now he was no longer actively involved in missions.

He heard the deafening music long before he detected a car approaching him from behind. He stopped at the intersection waiting for the little bit of traffic to pass, trying hard to ignore the racket being made by the occupants of that wreck they called a car. The battered saloon with the deaf morons inside suddenly pulled up alongside him, jeering him as he stood there waiting to cross.

As an active soldier, he'd been in many situations where he'd faced off antagonists who ranted and raged at him in aggression, so it was easy to ignore their constant jibes. When the lights changed, he decided it would probably be better to walk behind the vehicle in order to escape from their attention, rather than invite trouble if he stepped in front of them. It was with a resentful sigh, that he recognised the youths in the noisy car, to be the very same ones from his encounter in the park. Once safely across the road, he started to jog away from them, and just hoped they wouldn't take it in their head to follow him home.

Thoroughly pissed off by their lack of sensibility, Jack took off at a slightly faster pace, trying to put as much distance between himself and the kids. He still had roughly another mile to go yet until he would reach the safely of his house. Ducking down a narrow alley and then making a few extra turns, he glanced over his shoulder to see if he'd lost his tail, and released a sigh of thankfulness when he no longer saw them. He took a few moments to stop and catch his breath regretting his lack of activity these days. Sitting behind a desk was a sure fired way to add those extra pounds without the constant exercise he had been getting as part of an active team.

There had been no sign of them for several minutes so Jack thought that perhaps they had gotten fed up with being ignored and had finally gotten the message that he wasn't going to take the bait. He slowed again, needing to catch his breath again, and turned his thoughts back to the youngster, Max, and smiled when he thought about the meeting with his very persuasive Irish mother. So, how was it that the reputedly hard-assed General Jack O'Neill had been coerced into accepting dinner by a diminutive Irish, yet fiery red headed whirlwind? He chuckled to himself thinking that with a combination of her nationality and the famed auburn hair, it was no wonder that he'd never stood an earthly chance of refusing her offer. It would probably give his old team plenty of gossip for months to come, if that little piece of information ever got out.

He was so wound up in his thoughts that he didn't hear that certain car's approach for the second time. The overly loud music had been turned off completely, concealing their approach. It wasn't until they drew along side of him and began yelling more abuse at him, that he unhappily realised they were back again. He briefly turned towards them, before stopping completely, hoping they could drive by, and then he would double back and take a different route.

What happened next, took him completely by surprise.

With an absolutely deafening roar the music blasted out of the open windows accompanied by such foul language – bad enough it would make a soldier blush -as the vehicle revved its engine, then with a loud squeal of burning rubber, took off at great speed. leaving behind scorch marks on the road in its wake.

Jack turned to watch them leave, then staggered and gasped in sudden pain. Clutching his chest, he dropped to his knees on the sidewalk, blood pouring through his fingers from a bullet wound in his chest. Sheer astonishment warred with agony inside him as he looked down at the spreading blood stain on the front of his sweatshirt and sleeves. His world lurched and spun away from him as he quickly slumped forward where darkness threatened his consciousness; and then he knew no more.

TBC


	4. Bad News

_Sorry to have kept you all waiting; it's a busy time of the year and right now I'm not sure if I'm the right way up or not! LOL! However, not to keep you all in too much suspense, here's the next chapter, and I'll try to get the following chapter up real soon. Can't promise it tomorrow - got a hospital appointment and that takes all day usually, as we have to travel there and back too. By the time I get home again, I'm usually shattered. So, perhaps on Thursday..._

_Thanks as always for you wonderful reviews, they keep me from drowning, so please, keep them coming!_

**Christmas Spirit.**

By Lingren.

_Previously:-_

His world lurched and spun away from him as he quickly slumped forward where darkness threatened his consciousness; and then he knew no more.

Chapter 4 – Bad News

"But, he promised," Max whined as he turned back to his mother. He'd been keeping one eye glued to the street outside the window; waiting for Jack to return.

"I know he did honey, but don't forget, the General must be a very busy man. I expect he got called away for some emergency or some other reason so he couldn't make it back today," she said, trying not to sound too concerned because her guest hadn't shown up at all. Max was a bright boy and would have immediately picked up the hollow note in her voice if she'd allowed her very real worry, about why Jack had failed to arrive, to show.

"I guess," Max replied miserably, though he was not totally convinced by her argument.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, especially today, but it's been over two hours now," Patrick whispered in Chrissie's ear, not wishing to add to Max's anguish. "If he was gonna come, I think he would have been here by now. And I think that the fact that he hasn't phoned either, is probably testament that he never really intended to come back at all. We'll just have to face it Chrissie, the poor guy probably accepted your invitation just so you wouldn't nag him to death about come..."

"Patrick O'Brien, how dare you!" she retorted hotly, placing her hands onto her hips and scowling at her husband." I so did not nag the poor man. He seemed to be genuinely interested in joinin' us this day. I think it's time yous should both go wash up, dinner's more than ready. Max! Come on me darlin', it's time t' eat."

"But Mom...can't it wait until he gets here?"

"I'm sorry Max," And she really was. "but I don't think he's gonna show."

"Aw gee. Why not?"

"I don't know, son. Maybe he felt too uncomfortable. I can't say. Come on, let's eat," Chrissie urged, trying to take the boy's mind off his obvious disappointment.

The fourth place at the neatly laid out table, lay empty, and Chrissie couldn't help but feel a little frustrated at the way that Jack hadn't even bothered to call and let her know he couldn't make it. If he really didn't want to join them, he only had to say he didn't want to come. After all, it wasn't like she was going to bite him if he'd refused.

What should have been a celebratory meal, progressed in a tense silence with Patrick and Chrissie exchanging looks of concern, watching their son struggling to come to terms with his disillusionment of one General Jack O'Neill.

OoOoOoOoOoO

"Can I help you sir?" the mature nurse sitting behind the desk asked when the military officer approached the nurses' station.

"Yeah, I hope you can. I'm Colonel Dixon, USAF. I got a call from someone here to say that General O'Neill had been brought in, and that it was an emergency."

Jenny Spinks flicked through the file and found the relevant information. She looked up at the younger man, noting that his face was strained.

"Do you have any ID?" she asked tiredly, not very happy to be working on Christmas Day, but unable to avoid it.

"Ah yeah," Dave Dixon drew out his U.S.A.F. ID and flashed it in front of her face.

"Has the General any relatives living nearby?"

"Nope," Dixon sighed, at least not official ones. "He's married to the Air Force."

Jenny grinned, and received a similar response.

"So, what happened to the General?" he asked, wondering what was wrong with Jack that warranted pulling him from the base to the hospital. If the General had crashed his truck, then maybe he needed a lift home or something?

"You don't know?" Jenny asked in disbelief. It wasn't everyday they had a brass hat needing urgent treatment, under their roof; let alone getting shot at.

"No. The cops just said that General O'Neill was involved in an incident, and that he was here. He's my CO."

"Oh. Well, perhaps I'd better get the Doctor to fill you in on all the details." She pressed a button on the telephone and paged Dr. Warren.

A few moments later, Dixon turned when his attention was taken by a harried looking young intern, who had approached the desk.

"Ah, Dr. Warren. This officer would like to know what happened to General O'Neill," Jenny informed him. "The General is his CO. According to their records, the patient has no immediate family."

The doctor turned to looked at Dixon, before nodding his acknowledgement.

"If you'd like to come this way sir, I'll fill you in on the details of the General's condition."

He led Dave to a quiet room off the busy corridor and persuaded him to sit down.

"Can you tell me your name and what capacity you are here for?"

Dave pulled out his wallet again and showed the Doctor, his USAF ID to prove who he was, then with a huge and slightly unsteady breath, asked the burning question uppermost in his mind.

"So, what's goin' on Doc?"

"General O'Neill was admitted late this morning with a gunshot wound to his chest. He's undergoing surgery to remove the bullet, as we speak," he paused to let Dave take in the information, taking his time as the Air Force officer's face paled at the news.

"What? How the hell...?"

"Apparently, so they say, it was just a random, motiveless shooting. An eye witness said he saw the General out jogging when a car pulled up and the young occupants started shouting abuse at him, then just as they started to pull away, they shot him and took off at speed."

Dave could hardly believe his ears. The one question that kept coming back at him, was; why? Why Jack? What had he done to deserve this?

"Is he okay?"

"I can't tell you that until they've finished in the OR, if then. We may not know for the first 24 hours. That's the crucial point. If he survives up to that time then there's a good chance that he should be okay."

Dixon was still reeling from the shock, and merely nodded in receipt of the information. Jack had to survive; he was a fighter. They'd just gotten used to him being in command of the SGC.

"Are you okay?" Dr. Warren asked, concerned when the man remained silent and seemed lost in his thoughts. "Would you like some coffee?"

"No. No...it's okay, thank you. It's just come a bit of a shock that's all. Look, I really have to call someone higher up the chain of command, is there a phone round here I could use?"

"Sure, there's one down the hall."

"Thanks. You'll keep me informed, won't you?"

"You'll be staying?"

"Yeah. For now, at any rate."

"Then I'll make sure you're kept up to date with the latest news."

"Thanks Doc. For everything."

Doctor Warren nodded, then made his way back to the desk and informed the nurses that Colonel Dixon would be staying for a while, and needed to be notified of the General's progress.

Dave Dixon picked up the telephone and dialled the number listed on his emergency contact card. It rang several times before being picked up.

"Hammond!" the voice snapped, sounding a little disgruntled at being disturbed on Christmas Day, especially since it was the time when most people were sitting down to their Christmas Dinner.

"General Hammond, sir...it's Colonel Dixon. I'm afraid I have some bad news, sir."

Hammond steadied himself, waiting for the blow, and wondering what could have happened at the SGC today of all days? Talking of which, why wasn't Jack calling him, instead of Dixon? He took a deep breath to quieten his thoughts before he spoke.

"What's going on, son?"

"It's General O'Neill, sir. I'm over at the hospital. Apparently he's been shot."

Rather abruptly, Hammond sat down on the chair behind him, and rubbed a hand over his shiny pate, wondering what the hell Jack had gotten himself into now. With another calming breath, he wanted to know how in the hell, Jack had managed getting himself into trouble this time?

"Tell me what happened, Colonel!"

"From what I gather, sir. The General was out jogging this morning when some kids drove up yelling abuse at him, and then they just shot him and drove off. He's still in surgery right now sir. I won't know anything more until after they've finished putting him back together again."

"I presume that SG-1 are still...'out of the country'?"

"Yes sir, though they're due back later tonight."

General Hammond looked round at the dining table which groaned under the weight of the Christmas dinner his daughter had cooked, and sighed with disappointment. Not that it was Jack's fault, by the sound of things.

"I'll be right there, son."

"Yes sir."

George felt a hand on his shoulder in sympathy. His daughter knew how things were after living with the military way of life for so long. He reached up to hold her hand while turning to see his grand-daughters sitting down ready to eat and watching him with concern in their eyes.

"What's the matter Dad," she asked, causing him to look up at his daughter.

"It's Jack, honey. He's been shot. I really have to go and see what can be done. I'm sorry," he apologised, feeling awful for ruining their Christmas, yet again. There had been so many missed Christmases with his family, but he was still serving his country and that had to come first. And because it was Jack O'Neill too, because not only was he a good friend, he was also alone. His friends; his team; his family, were off-world still, and so he needed to be there for him.

"Oh God! Is he going to be okay?"

"I don't know that yet, he's still in surgery."

Rising stiffly from his chair, he made a big fuss of the girls before he left them to eat; all the while hoping that he would, at least, be back in time to tuck them into bed.

"I don't know what time I'll be back," he sighed. It really all depended on how badly Jack was injured. He refused to think the worst because he couldn't imagine what life would be like without a certain General Jack O'Neill, in it.

"Okay Dad. You take care, now. I hope Jack will be alright!"

He nodded, too anxious to say anything more. He gave his daughter a quick peck on the cheek and then hurried from the house, eager, yet, wary of reaching the hospital, in order to find out how things were for himself.

TBC


	5. Rallying the Family

_Thank you all so much for the latest reviews; your comments are always welcome. Hope you like this chapter too! I'll try to get this finished over the next week - if nothing else crops up to prevent me working on the computer that is!_

**Christmas Spirit.**

By Lingren.

_Previously:-_

He nodded, too anxious to say anything more. He gave his daughter a quick peck on the cheek and then hurried from the house, eager, yet, wary of reaching the hospital in order to find out how things were for himself.

Chapter 5 – Rallying the Family

General Hammond made his way over to the nurses desk.

"Is there any news on General O'Neill ma'am?"

"Are you a relative?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at the casually dressed man.

"No, but I am his Senior Officer. He has no family," he explained. "I am USAF Major General George Hammond, and I have the Power of Attorney on his behalf."

"Well, if you'd just go wait in the waiting room, I'll get one of the doctors to fill you in on his condition," the nurse stated blandly.

Hammond sighed and headed for the room she had nonchalantly pointed out. All of this meant absolutely nothing to her; it was all part of her daily routine, Christmas or not. On the other hand, this was something he would never grow used to. On the occasions when Jack had been injured quite badly before, it felt like it was his own son lying there. The incorrigible and often irreverent man had, over the years, become like a part of his family in a way. The least he could do was to make sure that he was okay. It was just a little thing to do for Jack; for the man who had saved the whole world for what had seemed like countless times over.

Frustrated from the long wait and bored with nothing to do except hang around, Colonel Dixon glanced up when the door opened and Hammond entered. He stood up to attention.

"Sir!"

"Stand down Dave," Hammond sighed heavily, "we're not on parade here."

"Yes sir," Dixon replied, relaxing again as he retook his seat.

"Have you heard anything of Jack's condition?"

"Nothing as yet, sir. They don't really want to tell me anything much, mostly because I'm not family, I guess."

George had only just sat down when the door opened once again. A middle-aged doctor entered the room, his face expression looked serious, which caused alarm bells to start ringing in both of the officers' minds.

"Is one of you gentlemen, General Hammond?" the medic asked rather needlessly, because he looked straight at George; being more of the mature age of the two before him, to go with the title. "I'm Doctor Barringer, I assisted in surgery on General O'Neill."

Hammond stood again, acknowledging the title and greeted him formerly before shaking is hand.

The Doctor looked towards Dixon, and Hammond reassured him that Dave had every right to be there, seeing as he was a friend too.

"Well, In that case, I have to tell you that I believe General O'Neill should fully recover, given time. At the moment he's in recovery. The surgery went well..."

"So he's gonna make it?" Dixon interrupted, holding out for Jack's usual Irish luck that had, somehow, managed to work in his favour again.

"There's a very good chance of that, yes. Though it was touch and go at one stage. He'd lost a lot of blood, and his lung had collapsed."

"So, he is going to pull through this?" Hammond needed to be absolutely certain.

"As for that, the odds are definitely in his favour. I'm probably around 80 sure that he'll be perfectly fine," the Doctor assured him again with a tired smile. It had been hard work, but judging by the two officers standing in front of him looking greatly relieved, it had been worth all of the effort. This General O'Neill may not have any family, but he could see the man had good friends that actually cared for him.

Hammond and Dixon had glanced at each other, and both had released a huge sigh of relief at the good news.

"Then, I'd like to thank you and your staff Doctor, for making sure he'll be okay," Hammond reached out a hand and the medic shook it once more.

"I'm glad we could be of service to your General O'Neill, sir. You obviously think a great deal of him."

"Yes. Yes, we do. He's one of your proverbial good guys, Doctor. We all owe him a great debt," Hammond said, knowing the doctor would had no idea of the hidden truth behind those few words.

"Is there any chance we could see him yet?" Dixon asked.

"Later. We need to make sure he is comfortable first when he comes round from the anaesthetic. But, I see no reason why not after that, though he will be out of it for some time to come yet."

"That's okay, we'll wait," Hammond assured him.

"I'll have one of the nurses come find you when he's ready to receive visitors."

"Thank you, Doctor."

When the door opened again, it was two police officers who entered, joining those in the waiting room.

"Ah, Slater, Officer Parker," the Doctor recognised them with a small smile.

"Doc," they both acknowledged.

Dr. Barringer introduced the General and Colonel Dixon to them, telling the police officers that they were there for General O'Neill. Once they had exchanged greetings, the doctor left them to talk.

"Officer," Hammond began, as the slightly older looking Police Officer sat down to wait. "Do you have any idea what happened out there?"

"Well, so far as we can tell, it's just a classic case of a 'Drive by,' shooting. Some kids these days seem to get their kicks out of cruising the streets. Sometimes taking pot shots at anyone who happens to be around at the time. Your General was just unlucky this time, I guess. We do have eye witness statements, as well as a description of the car and the licence plate. They're running a check on it now, so we should at least be able to pick the driver up soon, providing the plates aren't false of course," Officer Slater explained.

"That's good. So you think this was purely a random act from those kids?" Hammond asked, desperately needing to be sure of all the facts.

"We can only presume so, yeah, but until we question the driver of the vehicle, we can't know for sure. What else could it be?" asked Parker.

"I don't know, but, considering what it is we do, there could very well be an ulterior motive behind the shooting. With that in mind, we have to check for all possible scenarios."

"Oh yeah? And what exactly is it that you and the General do? I thought you guys just flew around and fired missiles at the enemy when we're at war?" Parker jeered good naturedly.

"I'm afraid that's classified. I can't tell you anything about the work the General does," Hammond stated with a slight grin, "and the only thing I fly these days is a desk at the Pentagon."

"Classified? Wow, that sounds like real top secret stuff. Is this General guy into spy stuff too?"

"We're not spies, Officer. What we do, is watch space for any potential enemy. Kinda like S.E.T.I., only...different," Dixon enlightened the police officers with a smile; without giving anything away, and without lying in so many words.

"Found anything out there yet? Some crazy aliens that wanna turn us into robots or worse!" Slater asked with a chuckle, full of curiosity as he was a big fan of Sci-fi shows.

Dixon laughed and even Hammond smirked.

"You wish!" Dixon grinned, avoiding a direct answer.

The door opened again, this time, admitting a young nurse carrying a tray of coffee cups.

"Excuse me sirs, but Doctor Barringer thought you might like some coffee. He said you may have a long wait before you will be able to get any answers from the patient."

Hammond breathed a sigh of relief for the intrusion; the conversation was getting too close for his comfort.

Just as the officers took their coffee and sat down, their radios crackled to life, asking for their assistance in another incident. They smiled wryly, abandoning their drinks and hurried from the room allowing Hammond and Dixon the chance to talk without interruption or censorship.

OoOoOoOoOoO

"Unauthorised Gate Activation!" blared the speakers situated throughout the myriad of halls in the SGC.

Acting Commander, Colonel Reynolds rushed down the stairs and into the control room, yelling.

"Close the Iris!"

"Sir, we're receiving SG-1's I.D.C.," Sergeant Harriman informed the senior officer after the trinium shield had slid effortlessly across the newly established wormhole.

"Okay, open it up again!" Reynolds ordered, now they knew who was coming through.

Harriman palmed the scanner again and Earth's only protection against intruders unfurled.

The water like surface of the wormhole shimmered as three familiar figures stepped through and walked calmly down the metal ramp. In the background, the Stargate disengaged with a soft whoosh.

"Welcome home SG-1." Reynolds said into the mike from behind the bulletproof glass of the control room. "Would you please report to the briefing room, immediately!" he requested.

"Wonder what's going on?" Daniel asked, as the Colonel disappeared from view, "And where's Jack anyway? He said he'd be back here to meet us."

"Only if he wasn't busy Daniel," Sam reminded him, "Maybe something came up that needed his attention." Sam could only speculate on O'Neill's absence.

The three of them handed over their weapons and gear and then made their way up the stairs to meet the Colonel in the briefing room.

As Daniel climbed up the last step, he was puzzled by the lack of personnel sitting round the table. He was half expecting to see a welcoming committee up there. Instead only the Colonel was present.

"What's going on, Colonel?" Sam asked frowning.

"I think it would be better if you would all take a seat. There is something I have to tell you."

Sam and Daniel exchanged worried glances, and Teal'c raised an eyebrow, but each of them sat down wondering why Reynolds was on duty here when they knew he was supposed to be at home with his family. Their main concern though, was, where was General O'Neill?

Reynolds studied the concerned faces in front of him, and swallowed, wishing it was Dixon that was having to inform the General's old team of the bad news, and not him.

"Ah...I...er...I'm afraid I have some bad news guys."

Daniel's and Sam's faces visibly paled with the sudden dread that something bad had indeed happened to the General. They really did not want to think about how bad the news could possibly be at this stage; but imaginations were powerful emotions when fed by fear.

"General O'Neill was out running this morning when he shot. Right now, he's in the City hospital. According to Colonel Dixon, he's going to be okay. I'm sorry, but I don't know any more details other than that at this point in time."

Sam couldn't help the strangled croak that came out when she gasped in shock. While Daniel, beside her, tried to choke back a sudden lump that lodged in his throat. Even Teal'c's normally stoical face took on an alarming pale look, which actually had Reynolds concerned for him.

"Along with Dixon, General Hammond is also at the hospital. He said earlier, to allow you to join them just as soon as you've completed your post mission medical exams. The mission briefing can wait 'til later."

"Sir...with your permission?" Sam asked, ready to jump up and get through the medical exam as quickly as possible.

Colonel Reynolds nodded, wishing his team would react like that if he was injured..

There was a hurried scramble for the door as the team dashed from the room in order to reach the infirmary. Not one of them wanted to waste any time.

TBC

_My appointment went well, and I can reduce the medication a little more now. Although I still have to have the regular 6 months eye tests, I don't have to see the neurologist until this time next year...unless it suddenly takes a turn for the worse of course! So keep your fingers crossed for me, pretty please! Thanks for all your support over the past couple of years too, while my head tried to decide whether it wanted to settle down again._


	6. Waiting, Wondering and Worrying

_Thank you all for your good wishes and for your concern over my health problems. I'm hoping this is the turning point now. I so want to feel something like my old self again. _

_Thank you too, for all your reviews, and for those of you interested enough to put this onto their story alerts or add it to their favourites. Thank you for helping to boost my spirit too – now all we have to do, is to boost Jacks!_

**Christmas Spirit.**

By Lingren.

_Previously:-_

There was a hurried scramble for the door as the team dashed from the room in order to reach the infirmary. Not one of them wanted to waste any time.

Chapter 6 – Waiting, Wondering and Worrying.

Several hours had passed and there was still no sign of their dinner guest. Patrick O'Brien tried to gloss over the disappointment felt by both his wife, and their son, when the General didn't show up for the main meal or the next.

"Do you suppose, somet'in' may have happened to him?" Chrissie fretted, unable to settle to anything without thinking about Jack. She was turning over all manner of possibilities in her head, most of them dire. "He did so promise."

"Maybe he just didn't want to come back but was too polite, or even too scared, to refuse you. You know, you have this tendency to bully people into doing things they really don't wanna do," Patrick sighed, glancing away from the sport on the TV. "Look what happened to Marty when you bullied him into taking Karen out for an evening."

"They were good together," she cried indignantly, justified by her previous actions at the time, with a pout. "They jus' needed a wee push in the right direction."

"Yeah, but kids weren't quite what Marty had in mind at the time, let alone getting married."

"Karen didn't ask for the kids to be born! She was fully prepared to wait for a while."

"And he was quite happy being a bachelor!"

Chrissie fell silent, grudgingly admitting to herself that maybe Patrick was right. She hadn't meant to bully anyone. She just wanted to see people happy. Right now though, she was busy worrying where her guest had gotten to. After another fifteen minutes of pacing and peering out of the window at the darkened streets, she spoke up again, voicing her deep concern.

"He promised Max, Pat. And I for one, don't believe he'd break that promise. He didn't strike me as a person who would let anyone down; not knowingly anyway," she retaliated with a scowl when Patrick raised an eyebrow questioningly. Nothing, and nobody, was going to shake her from the conviction that something really bad had happened to Jack O'Neill.

"Okay!" Patrick sighed heavily, just about tired of hearing her going on about this General. He was a patient man, but this was wearing him down a little. "Look, if it's any consolation to you, I'll give the office a ring, alright?"

Chrissie positively beamed at her husband, making him sigh and shake his head in resignation. He had no choice now; not if he wanted any peace for the rest of the holiday at least.

He plucked up the phone and dialled his extension at the station. After several rings, a harried voice snapped out a curt "What?"

"And a Merry Christmas to you too, Chuck!"

"Pat? I thought you were at home stuffing yourself full of Christmas turkey or goose or whatever it is you have?"

"I am and I did! It was great, thanks!"

"Cheapskate!" Chuck snarled good-naturedly. He'd drawn the Christmas Day shift, so that Pat could have the afternoon off to be with his family. "So, what are you ringing up here for? Can't you keep away from work for once?"

"Yeah, fat chance! We, well, Chrissie, was expecting one of her 'guests' to dinner, but he never showed. Do you think you could you check things your end and see if there were any incidents this morning involving a General O'Neill?"

"A General? Wow! Keeping exalted company these days are we? How did she manage to pull him in?"

"Don't ask! It was nothing to do with me I swear, but Chrissie's driving me crazy with this. She says, she's sure that he would have turned up if he'd been okay," Patrick grimaced.

"Okay, can you give me a minute here, Pat. Look, something's just come in, I'll have to call you back, okay?"

"Sure. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be waiting."

"Lucky bastard!" growled Chuck, just before he cut the connection.

Patrick smirked at his friend's comments as he replaced the phone. He passed on the message and settled back once more to watch the game on TV. Maybe he was right and the guy was really glad to get away from Chrissie. She was always trying to match people up, and took in all kinds of waifs and strays; the General obviously being no exception. Getting lost in the action of the game once more, he forgot all about no-show Generals, and unexpected, or unexplained mishaps or mysteries.

Chrissie still couldn't settle though. and Max wasn't much better either. Another hour had passed before the ringing of the telephone made them all leap out of their skins. Chrissie leapt up from the chair and grabbed the phone, hoping and praying that it was Jack calling to apologise for missing dinner.

It wasn't. With a deep sigh of regret, she handed over the phone to her husband.

Pat could see the disappointment settle on her face when she'd answered the phone. He got up and took the phone gently from her fingers when she silently handed it over to him.

"O'Brien," he said, wondering if it was Chuck down at the station.

"Hey, you know what? There was an incident this morning," Chuck confirmed, "A call came in about a 'Drive-by' shooting about four blocks from your house. The guy's in the city hospital, but I can't find anything else on him, like how he is if he died even. The report says his name is USAF General Jack O'Neill. Ring any bells?"

Patrick whistled with shock at the news and thanked his colleague for his help. He slowly replaced the handset and turned to Chrissie, almost beside herself with anxiety now.

"Well?" she demanded, impatient to know what had been said.

"According to Chuck's report, and if it's the same guy, then he's in the hospital, Chrissie. He was shot this morning, apparently several blocks from here. I'm sorry honey, I can't tell you any more than I know. Chuck doesn't know what happened to him afterwards either."

"I have to go there, Pat. I need to know how he is. Do you mind?"

Patrick could see the determination in her features anyway, despite his opinions either way. In fact he knew he would drive her there. It apparently meant that much to her. He pulled her into a hug and comforted her, pulling Max in between them for a hug too.

The youngster was in tears; he'd really liked Jack, and now he could be dead, and he didn't know. It just wasn't fair! Why was it he always seemed to lose the people he liked best, except his Mom of course; she was always there, and now his step-dad was there too.

Just thirty minutes later they were all sitting in the car heading downtown towards the hospital.

OoOoOoOoOoO

General Hammond was now sitting alongside Jack's inert body, waiting and watching him for any sign that he would be waking up. The sounds of the ventilator, the only other sound in the private room he had insisted Jack be placed in. It was a matter of national security, and part and parcel of being a General in the USAF in charge of the nation's most top secret facility.

Down the corridor, the little waiting room was filling up rapidly.

Colonel Dixon had now been joined by Major Carter, Daniel Jackson and Teal'c. Their presence now seeming to clutter up the little room. Each one of them was more than anxious to see how Jack was doing. Daniel was restless, pacing back and forth but getting bumped every now and then by one of the others as they too paced the room to ward off the boredom from the long wait.

However, despite the activity around him, Teal'c remained seated, silent and stony; his face impassive and unreadable to all except his closest friends. Even to them in the room, it was obvious that he was also distressed at the dire news concerning his warrior brother.

Sam stopped pacing and slumped onto the chair, sitting there in silence, but her face was streaked from the tears she'd shed. Every now and then she would sniff, or let out a muffled sob, and then Daniel would stop his incessant pacing and drop down beside her and envelop her in his arms. As friends, it was at these times when they needed the comfort most, and not one of them would think any less of the other in showing such weakness.

All this waiting, pacing and endless worry, was only prolonging the agony of not knowing exactly how well their friend was actually doing.

Their inner thoughts were interrupted when the door was pushed open cautiously and a small boy peered at them from around the corner before disappearing again. Max's eyes widened at seeing so many people inside the room, and turning back to whoever it was outside that was with him.

All of the SGC personnel that were gathered there, turned their eyes to the door when it opened and then quickly closed again. They waited in anticipation before the door was pushed open yet again and a moment later, a young woman appeared, followed by a tall man appeared with the boy who had peeped in a moment earlier.

Chrissie felt rather awkward and a little out of her depth, but she was determined to see this thing through. She'd reminded Patrick that according to the General himself, he had no family to speak of, so she felt it was up to her to make sure he had everything that he needed. The three strangers silently made their way over to the corner and sat on the low chairs next to the window, giving the others a nod in passing.

A strained silence had fallen over the room when Chrissie and her family had entered, and it crossed her mind that perhaps these strangers had someone whom they cared for too. Enough to spend their Christmas day waiting here for news, just as they were.

In fact, if it hadn't been for Patrick knowing the staff here as well as he did, she doubted they would be here. It was more than likely that they would have been told to go home again, as they certainly weren't related to the victim. Thankfully that wasn't the case. Patrick knew almost everyone on the staff here in the ER, due to his job as a police officer. Part of his work was interviewing victims of violent assaults who were recuperating in the hospital, so he got to know the doctors and nurses pretty well.

It had been growing colder outside, and the evening shadows had long ago lengthened into night. A light snow had begun to fall, creating an eerie glow around the lights in the street below, and giving everything an ethereal quality more redolent of a dream world.

Max sat down quietly, turning away from the strangers to gaze out of the window at the softly falling snow. It seemed to mesmerise him, luring him into a sleepy calm. If he hadn't been so wound up over Jack's fate, he could quite easily have fallen asleep right now. It had been a long, and tiring day, and it was now way past his bedtime.

TBC


	7. Surprises All Round

_Getting near to the end now, and I'm happy to know you are all enjoying this story. Even if I do let the odd goof through! Doh! Thanks for all your reviews as always! I'd be lost without your comments to keep me going._

**Christmas Spirit.**

By Lingren.

_Previously:-_

Max sat down quietly, turning away from the strangers to gaze out of the window at the softly falling snow. It seemed to mesmerise him, luring him into a sleepy calm. If he hadn't been so wound up over Jack's fate, he could quite easily have fallen asleep right now. It had been a long, and tiring day, and it was now way past his bedtime.

Chapter 7 – Surprises All Round

Max leaned into his Mom and sighed heavily, everything was taking so long. Chrissie smiled and moved her arm round his small frame, drawing him closer. If she knew him as well as she did, then any minute now, he would be asleep. She looked up and caught Patrick's eye, and they shared a smile before watching Max's eyes close.

Max woke with a start when the door opened, and he scrunched up his face in confusion. With another sigh, he soon realised that the stocky man who'd entered was no doctor, so he let his eyelids drift down until he was almost asleep again.

The stocky man who had caused Max to wake was General Hammond who had come back into the room. Ignoring the strangers over by the window, he turned towards Sam, Daniel, and Dave Dixon who had practically pounced on him, wanting to hear the latest news.

"Sir? How is he?" Sam asked, beating the others to the draw.

Hammond sighed. There hadn't been much of a change, but the staff had assured him that Jack was comfortable now.

"The doctors' say he's improving gradually. We won't know much more until he wakes, but they're keeping him sedated for the time being." He turned towards Dixon. "Colonel, there's nothing more for you to do here. You can have a few minutes with the General, but afterwards, I suggest you get back to your command post."

"Yes sir. Thank you. I won't be more than a few minutes General."

"I know son." Hammond sat down next to Sam, not unaware of her misery.

"Sir? Permission to stay?" Sam asked, almost pleading. She needed to spend some time with Jack too. At least, as much as she was permitted.

"Of course Colonel. Well, it's late, so I'm off home. I promised the girls I'd be there to tuck them in if I could. Keep me posted Colonel. You have my number,"

"Yes sir. Good-night sir."

"Good-night people."

General Hammond left the room, albeit rather reluctantly. He would have liked to have stayed, but his daughter would be worried; and he really wanted to be there for his grand-daughters. Jack was going to be okay, and now his 'family' were round him, he could in all conscience, leave him in their hands.

Over-hearing the conversation, Chrissie was absolutely agog at the possibility that these people were Jack's work colleagues. For some reason she hadn't expected anyone to be that interested in a General. Her impression of the military, was of strict, well disciplined, and defined protocol. That old adage of...'it's lonely at the top' was usually true, and which is what Jack had appeared to be – a very isolated and friendless. These people though seemed to care a great deal about him. She was never, if ever, backward in coming forward, so making sure Max was okay, she stood up and directly approached Sam.

"Excuse me dear, but did I hear yous correctly that you're all military folk here?" she asked tentatively.

For the first time since the strangers had entered the room, Sam took in the shortish stranger and wondered why it was any concern of hers.

"Yes, we're USAF," she replied a little cautiously.

"And you're here because of what happened to General O'Neill?"

Stunned, Sam turned to share a surprised look with Daniel before focussing on Chrissie again.

"Yes, we are," Sam confirmed reluctantly.

"I'm so very sorry that this happened to him. From what we ourselves can gather, he was shot on his way home from our house," she explained, though completely unaware of shocking the three team-mates in the process.

All three set of ears had pricked up at her casual statement; and all faces turned towards her to gape in surprise. Sam had to mentally remind herself to close her mouth and not stare.

"Your house? I'm sorry…? You know the General personally?" Sam gasped in surprise. This was news to her. What else had Jack been hiding from them?

"Well, sort of. You see, he was going home to get changed into something decent before he returned to dine with us. He wasn't fit to stay for Christmas Dinner in his old sweats..." Chrissie prattled on, regardless if she was making any sense to the strangers or not.

Sam just couldn't believe her ears. Neither could Daniel or Teal'c for that matter.

"He was going to have dinner at your place?" Daniel gasped, "With you?"

"That's right, like I jus' said. Jack said he'd be back before I knew it, but he didn't show up and Max and I got really worried about him."

"You've... Have you known the General for long?" Sam felt compelled to ask, wondering why Jack had never mentioned having any friends outside of work. In all the years she had known him, not once did he mention any friends living nearby, and wondered about Jack O'Neill. She knew the ex-Colonel, now General, well enough, but did she really know the man behind the uniform?

"Oh, gracious no! We only met this morning, but I feel like I've known him for years."

Daniel couldn't help but gasp again at Chrissie's statement, spoken so casually as if it was a normal everyday occurrence.

"Really?" he asked, now full of curiosity after second guessing how good his and Jack's friendship had actually been.

"Oh yes. He saved my boy, Max, from some of they nasty bullies who wanted to steal his new bike. He'd only had it as a Christmas present today, and already they wanted to take it from him. According to my Max, that's when Jack came along and sent them all packing. Max told me all about it you see, because Jack was kinda reluctant to go into any details."

"Ah...Mrs...em..." Daniel hadn't got a clue who the woman was.

"O'Brien, but, please, call me Chrissie," she pleaded with a huge smile.

"Ah yeah...um... Mrs. O'Brien, did Max, get a good look at the guys who were trying to take his bicycle?" Daniel asked, hope dawning in his mind.

Chrissie turned to Max who had woken up and had been watching them talk, he jumped up from the chair and made his way over to his mom, where he stood partly hidden behind her, hanging on to her hand.

"Hello. You must be Max. Pleased to meet you. Do you think you could describe the bullies at all Max?" Sam asked, knowing exactly where Daniel was going with his chain of thought.

Max nodded silently, and Sam beamed at him encouragingly.

"Uh huh! I think so."

Patrick who had stayed back and let Chrissie do the talking, now took a sudden interest in the conversation. He stood up and joined the others.

"Hi. I'm Patrick, Max's step-father. What exactly are you two driving at?"

"I was thinking that perhaps Jack wasn't shot by just anyone," Daniel explained, hoping he was correct in his assumption. "I think Jack was shot out of retaliation. For defending Max and for beating off the bullies on Max's behalf. Jack would do anything to protect a child, and that simple gesture of his could quite easily have turned them into enemies. Having been thwarted by him, they took out their revenge when they caught up with him later."

The light in Patrick's mind flashed bright and he turned to his son.

"Max. Could you really tell me what they looked like, son?"

"Uh huh!" he said, looking into his Dad's eyes.

Patrick whipped a notebook out of his pocket and jotted down all the details that Max was telling him.

"Are you sure that's all you can remember about them?" Patrick asked, knowing Max wouldn't have kept anything back if it would help catch those thugs that shot his friend Jack. He stood up and patted the boy's head and after a quick word with the adults, he disappeared down the hallway heading for the nearest telephone. He needed to get hold of Chuck.

A few minutes later, Dave Dixon poked his head round the door.

"He's all yours Sam. I have to get back to the...mountain," he had to amend his words when he noticed that there were others in the room. "Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Yes sir, I will. Thanks for staying, Colonel," she said, smiling.

"No problem, Colonel," he grinned. "You can go in now. The nurse said it was okay."

"Thanks!"

Sam excused herself and disappeared, eager to get to Jack's room to see how he was. Daniel was happy to chat with Chrissie and Max. Teal'c joined in with the odd raised eyebrow thing he did, actually saying very little. He was content to let Daniel and Chrissie do most of the talking.

After 15 minutes, which was all they were allowed at this point, Sam reappeared and Daniel took his place at his friend's bedside. Thus leaving Sam to converse with Chrissie, Max and Teal'c.

However, after Chrissie had been completely assured that Jack was going to be okay, they arranged to meet at a future date. She left after Sam allowed her to pop her head round Jack's door; just for moment to see him for herself. Satisfied he was okay, the O'Brien family went home, feeling like they were part of an extended family.

Patrick too felt that the evening had been well spent. He had informed Chuck and his fellow officers, of Max's description of the men they needed to find. He was even more pleased when it turned out, that they exactly matched the descriptions given by the eye witnesses to the shooting.

It wasn't long before the driver was arrested, and it was only a matter of time that he would reveal who his friends were, and who it was, that actually fired the near fatal shot.

TBC


	8. Recovery and Reciprocation

_Well, here it is the last chapter - yes, all good things must come to an end at some point. I hope you have all enjoyed reading this. Thanks as always for all your continued comments and encouragement._

**Christmas Spirit.**

By Lingren.

_Previously:-_

It wasn't long before the driver was arrested, and it was only a matter of time that he would reveal who his friends were, and who it was, that actually fired the near fatal shot.

Chapter 8 – Recovery and Reciprocation

Over the next few days Jack progressed well, though he hardly roused for long. It worried the team at first, but they were reassured that he was being kept sedated so he would heal quicker. They just didn't want him to move about too much. They did take the breathing tube out as Jack obviously hated it, despite the use of drugs which made him sleepy and relaxed. Gradually they weaned him off the heavy sedation and allowed him to wake up in his own time.

When Jack did finally wake, feeling more like he was more cognisant, he discovered that he was actually in the hospital and not the infirmary as he'd expected. He cast his slightly unfocussed eyes over to where he could see a dark shape and found Daniel was sitting vigil by his bedside.

"Daniel?" he gasped through a raspy throat.

"Hey, Jack, you're awake at last!"

"No' really," Jack croaked, feeling parched. He was dry and his tongue felt like sandpaper against the inside of his cheeks. Everything was still fuzzy, including his brain.

Daniel offered him a spoonful of ice chips which Jack savoured for a few moments before swallowing; smacking his still dry lips, for some more. Daniel obliged him with a smile.

"Do you remember anything about what happened to you?" Daniel asked, retaking his seat again.

Jack fought the muzzy fog to think it over for a minute, until he recalled feeling the red hot bite of a bullet burning in his chest. He recalled his subsequent collapse into the snow at the side of the street, and then nothing else. His brain fired up when his mind's eye showed him exactly what had gone on previous to his waking up in the hospital.

"Some damn punk shot me!" he rasped, growing angry and agitated at the thought.

"Hey! Take it easy Jack. It's okay. The police already have them in custody."

"Bastards!"

"Well, they'll get what they deserve now, so you can stop getting worked up over it. You're doing okay now, and the Doctor says you can be transferred to the SGC tomorrow."

"Oh joy!" he responded grumpily. "Can't wait." It wasn't so much the thought of being in the infirmary at the SGC, so much as being in a hospital at all. Why did these things always seem to happen to him? he wondered. Did he have a target painted on him that said, 'shoot here!'?

"So, You're back!" Jack heaved a painful sigh, but it was more from his own wound than anything, and with relief for their safe return.

"Yeah. We got back just after..." he said quietly, gesturing at Jack's wounded chest. The white dressing stood out starkly against the otherwise bare chest dusted with dark hairs. Wires snaked out from under the bandage and elsewhere, attached to various monitors and drains. "That was ...um... it was two days ago."

"So, I guess I missed my Christmas dinner, huh?"

"Ah... Yeah. Chrissie and Max have been asking after you," Daniel informed him with a grin, barely able to keep his face straight.

Wearily, Jack looked up at his friend askance and frowned.

"You...em…you met them then?"

"Oh yeah!" Daniel chuckled softly, highly amused. "Chrissie is..."

"Yeah! Chrissie," Jack grinned wryly too. "She's somethin' alright!"

There was no need to elaborate any further, Jack knew Daniel would understand. Perhaps reading more into it than was healthy. Suddenly he didn't know where to look, feeling somewhat embarrassed about how he'd met her, but couldn't say why exactly he felt that way. It wasn't as if there was anything other than a platonic friendship which grew out of his interaction with Max.

He just hadn't planned on letting his old team in on his meeting with Chrissie. She had been rather like a miniature tornado and he felt that she could even persuade the Goa'uld to look after the children on a Sunday School outing; after first donating their 'snakes' to feed the starving Unas. She most definitely had some of that fiery Irish blood flowing through her veins. Were his team just as overwhelmed by her as much as he had been? He could only guess, a resounding yes to that.

Feeling his eyelids grow heavy, he closed his eyes and after a few moments had drifted back to sleep again, leaving Daniel to muse on the idea that perhaps there was someone in this world who could get the better of Jack.

The big question was; how had Chrissie managed to get him to accept her invitation to spend Christmas with her family? Daniel knew how darn stubborn Jack could be. He, Sam and Teal'c had known for a fact that Jack had turned down several requests for him to spend the day with Ferretti and with Dave Dixon's family. The only excuse Jack had given had been that he needed the peace and quiet and stay sane. If he'd spent the day with the others, he reckoned he be a raving lunatic by the time his 'kids' had come home. He'd sent them off world a few days prior to the big day with assurances that they would be able to spend the evening together at his place. Daniel was eager to know all the details, but knew he'd probably never be told the real reason. Jack being Jack, would never tell them unless he wanted them to know, and then it would probably be the sketchy, abridged version.

The door opened as Daniel left Jack to sleep, happy to know that his friend was going to be fine and back to his grouchy self in a few days time. He walked down the corridor and met Sam coming through the main doors to the area. They exchanged a few words before Daniel left to go home and a much happier Sam to take her turn at sitting with Jack.

OoOoOoOoOoO

The big Ford truck drove down a familiar street, and Jack who had been half asleep in the passenger seat, suddenly stirred and took note of where he was.

"Daniel? This isn't the way to my house! Where the hell are we going?"

"You should know, Jack."

"I do and that's just the problem."

"Why is it a problem, sir?" Sam asked from behind him.

"Well, I mean," he sighed, waving an impatient hand in confusion. "It's not home!"

"No? Really?" Daniel asked, facetiously.

"Daniel!" Jack warned.

"It's okay Jack, Chrissie, Patrick and Max just wanted to make sure you're okay. We promised her a while back, that when we got to take you home, we'd drop by to say hello."

Jack groaned inwardly, unwilling to admit that this was one confrontation he'd rather face on his own and on his own terms. He wasn't sure he could do this right here and now, he still felt drained, and hadn't quite stopped the shaking in his legs when he had to walk. Even getting to the bathroom was still a problem, for cryin' out loud.

"I'm not ready for this kids!" Jack whined, feeling powerless from his side of the truck. If he'd been driving, it would have been easy to turn round and head home.

However, they ignored his excuses and pulled up in front of the house. Feeling like he'd been betrayed, he had to plaster a smile on his face when Max came running out to meet them.

"Hi Jack! You okay now?" the boy asked excitedly when Teal'c opened the door beside him to assist in helping Jack to his feet.

Jack eased his sore body from the front seat of the truck and gingerly straightened up. Taking a good look at the genuine concern, and huge smile that Max put on for him, tore at Jack's heart and made him feel guilty for being grumpy. How could he have forgotten that Max had been so disappointed that he had been hurt through something he himself had done to protect the boy. Sucking in as deep a breath as he could, his false smile turned into a genuine one which reached and radiated from his dark eyes. It had been a very long time since a young kid had looked up to him with something akin to hero worship and it humbled him.

"Yeah. I'll be fine, Max, thanks."

Once he'd gained his sea legs, Max took his hand and helped him up the walkway. The pace, made Jack wince as it pulled on his still sore chest, but he wasn't about to call him on it. His three 'kids' were right behind him, and if he did fall on his ass on the snow, then he knew they would be there to catch him.

Chrissie was standing just inside the open door and enveloped him into one of her huge welcoming hugs as soon as he'd stepped across the threshold. To Jack, starved of anything remotely similar over the years, her touch was like coming home, and he hugged her back. He admitted to himself that maybe he had needed to be reminded that there were good people in this world after all. In that moment of realisation, all his inhibitions fled in the comfort of her arms - despite the fact that she only reached his chest. He felt happier than he had believed possible.

Chrissie, being the woman that she was, wiped away her tears of happiness before it could escape and roll down her cheek. Jack melted under the simple show of affection, and taking her hand in his, he squeezed it gently.

"Hey," he crooned softly, "I'm fine, really. I'm doin' okay!"

"I knows that, Jack. It's jus' so good to know you're almost well again. We all thought..."

Jack put his finger under her chin and raised her head to meet her eye to eye.

"It's over, Chrissie. I'm fine. And none of this is Max's fault. I would have done the same for any child." Then as if to belie his words, he wavered slightly on the spot. Daniel's hand quickly grabbed his elbow to steady him. Teal'c was standing right behind him, and placed his hand on Jack's shoulder to help too.

"What am I thinkin'?" Chrissie cried, when she saw Jack's face grow paler. "Keepin' yous standin' when I know you's only just out of your sick bed. Come on, now, you sit yourself down there before you fall down." Chrissie bustled about, escorting him with the others to her most comfortable armchair.

Jack sank down into it with a sigh of relief. He felt drained, but didn't really want to admit, even to himself, that he felt like a wet dish rag.

Max dropped down at his feet, keeping close by him, not a bit cowed by Jack's apparent weakness. The others were told to grab a seat too, while Chrissie went off to the kitchen to fetch some coffee. Daniel, Sam and Teal'c all squeezed up on the sofa opposite Jack, while Patrick found the second easy chair.

The conversation flowed around him as Jack sat back resting with his eyes closed, just drinking in the sound of light-hearted laughter and easy chit chat which flowed around him. The next thing he knew, his arm was being shaken lightly.

"C'mon Jack. Dinner's ready."

"Huh?" Jack's eyes flew open and he suddenly realised he'd actually dozed off. "Sorry," he apologised, feeling his face flush with awkwardness. "I... er... I didn't mean to take a nap."

"Nonsense. You're the only one around here that has a valid excuse to fall asleep," Chrissie jibed, looking straight at her husband who reddened under her allegation. He was actually tired too. He'd been on duty all night, and was only awake to please her and be sociable to her guests.

"Dinner?" asked Jack, wondering if he was still in the infirmary and dreaming all of this.

"Yes! This is the Christmas Dinner you missed Jack. You couldn't be here before, so we's givin' you a special treat now. Jus' for today mind! We're pretendin' it's Christmas all over again," the diminutive fireball stated proudly. "Your friends here didn't tell you?"

"No! they didn't," he frowned across at the guilty trio, who merely grinned back and shrugged.

"Oh sweet Jesus!" she exclaimed looking sternly at the guilty trio now standing in front of the sofa. "No wonder the poor dear looks confused."

Sam glanced sideways at Daniel but they couldn't hold back the snigger at the 'poor dear' label concerning Jack.

Chrissie led them all towards the dining room. Max was still helping Jack, who, once he was seated, ran his hand over the boy's hair in affection; a sign of Jack's appreciation for his help. Then Chrissie hurried out to the kitchen and proceeded to fill their plates with all sorts of excellent dishes. The conversation flowed around the table as easily as if they had all been good friends for many years not just a few weeks.

Once their super meal had finally finished, and all of them were full to bursting – Teal'c too - they gathered in the lounge again and Jack received all the Christmas presents he had missed out on while he was hospitalised. Including a very special one from Max.

Jack was touched by the kindness shown to him by these people and especially the trust Max had in him. He picked up the soft, squishy, brightly wrapped parcel and sat for a few minutes trying to fight the lump it had brought to his throat. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that this was Charlie, and they were all having a super Christmas with his parents. He knew it wasn't his son though, but if Max was his son then he would be proud of the way he behaved and seemed to understand what was expected of him.

"C'mon Jack!" Max urged, almost jumping up and down with impatience. "I really hope you'll like it."

There was lots of laughter, and encouragement from his 'kids' as he began to tear away at the wrapper. It was a new sweat dark blue shirt, and according to Max it was to replace the one that he had been wearing when he was shot. He was urged to hold it up to show everyone what was written across it. The slogan on the front read... 'I'm a General...' and on the back it read...'Disaster Waiting to Happen,' and it made him chuckle. The others laughed along with him too. He pulled Max into a hug, albeit a little awkwardly, thanking him for such a great present.

There were more gifts to open, and could only be thankful that Daniel and Sam had managed to get him a small present to give to Max from himself, seeing as he was confined to bed until a couple of days ago. Not that it made any difference as he wasn't permitted to leave the base until today either.

It was a couple of hours later that he felt the familiar ache in his chest. The uncomfortable pain told Jack it was way past the time for his medication and the new doctor would probably have a fit if she knew he hadn't taken them sooner than this. He gave his team a needy glance and they took the hint. Jack had, had enough and needed to go home now. As one, they all stood to take their leave and after there were hugs and kisses all round, he left with the conviction that these people were some of the finest he had met in a very long time.

It made him realise what exactly they were fighting for. For the very existence of this planet, for peace and for liberty. Freedom from Goa'uld domination for every planet that they visited, and he knew he couldn't step down or give it up yet. Chrissie and her family had brought him out of his deep loneliness, and restored his faith in human kind. He had been lonely at the top, missing his team, but now he had some new friends to take the edge off his melancholy whenever SG-1 were off world, and inadvertently, he'd found out the true meaning of that old adage, the Christmas Spirit.

This last Christmas might well have been just that, but he could now look forward to many more, surrounded by such warm-hearted friends as these.

The End.

_Well, I hope you all enjoyed this little Christmas fic! I would like this opportunity to say a big thank you to everyone of you who has ever read and reviewed or just enjoyed my stories. Thank you for staying with me over this past year. So, I wish you all a very MERRY CHRISTMAS and a super, wonderful HAPPY NEW YEAR! I wish you all the best for 2008!_


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